behind him raised a solemn hymn, and the crowd sank on their knees; nor
did they move till the chant ceased and the high-priest again cried out:

"The Immortals bless you by me their servant. Leave this spot and make
way for the daughter of Rameses."

With these words he withdrew into the temple, and the patrol, without
meeting with any opposition, cleared the road guarded by Sphinxes which
led to the Nile.

As Bent-Anat mounted her chariot Ameni said "Thou art the child of kings.
The house of thy father rests on the shoulders of the people. Loosen the
old laws which hold them subject, and the people will conduct themselves
like these fools."

Ameni retired. Bent-Anat slowly arranged the reins in her hand, her eyes
resting the while on the poet, who, leaning against a door-post, gazed at
her in beatitude. She let her whip fall to the ground, that he might
pick it up and restore it to her, but he did not observe it. A runner
sprang forward and handed it to the princess, whose horses started off,
tossing themselves and neighing.

Pentaur remained as if spell-bound, standing by the pillar, till the
rattle of the departing wheels on the flag-way of the Avenue of Sphinxes
had altogether died away, and the reflection of the glowing sunset
painted the eastern hills with soft and rosy hues.

The far-sounding clang of a brass gong roused the poet from his ecstasy.
It was the tomtom calling him to duty, to the lecture on rhetoric which
at this hour he had to deliver to the young priests. He laid his left